


You're My Best Friend

by PinkDogPlushie



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Dreams, Dreams vs. Reality, Dreamscapes, F/M, Gen, Hallucinations, Heaven & Hell, Near Death Experiences, Not Really Character Death, Purgatory, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, The Bad Place
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-23 00:22:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21311044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkDogPlushie/pseuds/PinkDogPlushie
Summary: Colonel Potter is shot during a sniper attack. As he is operated on, he travels to a strange plave where he's supposed to wait until he can enter Heaven. Except it's not his time yet, and a few old friends have come to tell him.
Relationships: Margaret "Hot Lips" Houlihan & Sherman Potter, Mildred Potter/Sherman Potter, Radar O'Reilly & Sherman Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	You're My Best Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Pottervember event on the M*A*S*H The Swanp Discord server, in response to the prompt "Gee Ma I Wanna Go Home".  
The fic references the episode "Old Soldiers", so I reccommend you watch it first before reading.

Is this the real life?

Sherman certainly doubts so.

Is this just fantasy?

He's almost sure of that.

The last things he remembers is the searing pain of the bullet colliding against his shoulder, the pungent smell of blood, and golden cascading locks that might have been Mildred's hair, or that of an angel (though that's the same to him), or simply the last rays of sunshine escaping the sunset.

When he opens his eyes, he's lying in cold snow, looking at the starriest sky of his life, with the biggest moon he has ever seen. Red taints the white ground. His red? Others' red? He doesn't know. Reds tend to get mixed up in Korea, to the point when, in a week-long night, there's more foreign red in his self than his own.

"Long time no see, Potter."

He can't believe he's hearing that voice. He turns around quickly and sees him: Stein, ever the jokester, as alive and young as he looked that night in France, so many years ago. He's coming out of the woods that surround the snowy clear Sherman woke up in, with that mischievous, contagious smile of his. He finds himself grinning along, even as his eyes tear up.

"Still too soon, though, Sherm. You're not ready yet."

"Ready? For what?" he feels himself say, although it's like someone else was speaking.

"The Elysian Fields, Potter" another voice says. It's Gianelli: "It's lovely there. There's no wars, or hunger, and any strife you may feel will not consume you. Everything can be solved in the Fields."

"Why can't I go yet?" he can't keep himself from asking.

"Because Mildred is still on Earth, Sherman." Someone else comes out of the woods, its voice tainted with an 'isn't it obvious?' tone.

"Ryan."

"I heard it was a beautiful wedding. Sorry I couldn't be there." Ryan says, with an almost apologetic smile.

"But_ I_ was," oh, and he's definitely crying now, because the voice coming from behind him stopped talking in Tokyo, not too long ago "And I gotta say: you made the best decision of your life when you married that woman."

Gresky. He wordlessly turns around and engulfs the man in a hug, wishing to never let go. His friend responds in kind.

"Mildred and you are meant to depart together. You'll leave a few days before her, and you'll wait for her in here," Gresky explains, not ending the hug.

"But if you leave now, you'll have to stay here for twenty more years, alone, until she comes," Stein continues, his voice unusually somber, patting him in the back.

"And when she does, she'll go to the Fields alone, because the memory of those you left behind will bind you. You won't be able to move on." Gianelli finishes. Sherman, in the midst of all the emotions he's feeling right now, is confused by all these things they're mentioning.

"W-where am I?" he shakily manages to ask, finally letting go of Gresky.

"It's... some sort of middle ground. It's a peaceful place of your own, where you can wait until you move on to the Elysian Fields or, well, the other place. The Bad Place."

He huffs out a chuckle: "You mean to say you /didn't/ end up in Hell with all the philandering you did in France, Ryan?"

The kid ('cause yes, the years apart have made him a kid compared to Sherman) shrugs, his smile turning appropiately devilish at his remark: "What can I say? The Almighty doesn't actually care about that."

"You should have seen the place I got: a bright sun, the smell of the sea; definitely better from France." Stein says, grinning. Sherman doesn't believe him, but he doesn't say anything.

Suddenly, his head aches, sharp but brief. Silhouettes of people dance before his eyes, hurried voices indistinguishable from each other.

"You need to go back, Sherm. Your friends are trying to cure you."

"My-my friends?"

"The 4077th, Potter. They're worried sick. In the eyes of God, they're your family. The youngest can't stop coming in and out of the OR, and that daughter of yours is frantic."

"My daughter? What's my daughter...?"

Gianelli raises a complicit eyebrow, saying 'you know who I'm talking about'.

"Ok. Ok, I'm going back."

"Atta boy. Now," Gianelli, for once, seems to not know what to say "Take care, will you? We don't want to see you here early again."

"If I see you again before the twenty years are up, I'm gonna kick your butt." Stein says, and the group shares one last laughter. Sherman closes his eyes, and thinks of Earth: the smell of blood and dirt, the taste of scotch, the laughter of his fellow officers, the soft lips of Mildred...

He opens his eyes again, for real this time. He's on a bed, in Post-Op. There doesn't seem to be other wounded, which means the doctors didn't have to operate under pressure from a deluge. Good: they had enough with a sniper shooting their CO.

"Colonel."

Sherman looks at the person who had spoken. Hawkeye looks back at him, his grey hairs glimmering in the dim light. He calls Margaret, who's in the little table on the corner. She looks up, and her eyes fill with an emotion that overwhelms him.

_No wonder God thinks she's my daughter._

"Colonel," she says, sitting by his bedside "How are you feeling?"

Sherman tries to sit up on the bed, but the bandages on his shoulder and chest keep him from going through the motion.

"Are you in any pain?"

"No, Major, fortunately. How are the others?"

"They'll live," Hawkeye answers "You're not our first all-nighter, you know?"

Sherman chuckles in a low voice. This kid reminds him so much of Stein.

"Radar was really worried. I had never seen him so eager to help on an operation, just so he could be with you. In the end I let him stay nearby with Father Mulcahy." Margaret tells.

"Is he asleep now?"

"Yeah. Poor kid was dead on his feet by the time we closed you up."

"Good. He's young, he needs his sleep."

"I'll have him get checked by a pediatrician soon, Colonel."

Sherman laughs again, with a merriment that strangely, almost brings him to tears.

He's home again, and he's not alone. Even if there's still a war on, it doesn't really matter to him. Nothing really matters, except those who love him on Earth, and those who will be by his side on the Elysian Fields.


End file.
